


take me where you go

by sweet westerlies (emblems)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Clubbing, DJ Otabek Altin, Fic amnesty, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emblems/pseuds/sweet%20westerlies
Summary: written for the following prompt:Gangster AU, Yuri is the leader of a notorious street gang, Otabek is a DJ and a rider for a rival gang, there's a kingpin somewhere, and maybe some dancing.





	take me where you go

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for sportsfest 2018, for [this prompt](https://sportsfest.dreamwidth.org/8539.html?thread=1010011#cmt1010011).
> 
> title is from the lyrics found in the above link.

otabek is approaching the end of his set when he spots something bright amid the crowd below him.  
  
_he really ought to know better_ , otabek thinks to himself; that blond hair is a mite too recognizable to be visiting one of the haunts of a major rival.  
  
maybe he was counting on the presence of unassociated third parties to mitigate any incidents. or maybe he didn't care what came his way—"i can handle myself," he so often liked to tell otabek.  
  
still, otabek can't help but sigh when he confirms that, yes, it is yuri plisetsky that's just arrived, wearing—yes, that is otabek's jacket.  
  
not for the first time, he regrets telling yuri that he had this gig tonight. 

———

yuri is tracing his fingers over the wet spot on the bed when he asks what otabek is doing that night.  
  
otabek, from the bathroom, tells yuri he's working. he throws yuri a towel to sop of the worst of the wet spot.  
  
yuri doesn't bother with it, using it to wipe the sweat from his forehead instead. "are you going to tell me, or are you going to continue being cryptic so you can pretend you're doing the bigger thing and keeping me out of trouble?"  
  
and otabek has never been good at that—or at keeping things from him.

———

even if yuri plisetsky wasn't easy to spot, there's a certain magnetism to him that otabek could never deny.  
  
still, the way yuri looks at him, it's like yuri is the one that just found otabek, rather than the other way around.  
  
otabek's hands slide onto yuri's hips as easily as they did the first time, and they fit just the same.  
  
"you saw me come in?" yuri says, hips already moving with the music.  
  
"hard to miss," otabek replies, and it's equal parts a statement and an admonition.  
  
yuri hears it, too, and his mouth tilts upward in a smirk. "you worry too much, beka—it's going to give you early wrinkles."  
  
otabek's grip tightens, pulling them even closer together. "i'd like to avoid having to clean your blood off the floor tonight," he says.  
  
when otabek first met him, yuri was headstrong and predictable in his tendency to do whatever he wanted, at the moment it occurred to him. now, though, he thinks more. he calculates. the job demanded it.  
  
yuri turns around so that his back rests against otabek's chest, his ass pressing into otabek's groin.  
  
otabek bites his lip against the gasp that rises from his chest.  
  
"we need to talk," yuri says, craning his neck back so his lips almost brush over otabek's ear. "meet me in five minutes."  
  
and just as quickly as he materialized, he's gone—melting into the crowd.

———

it's something that yuri has told him about before, spreading it out in bits and pieces on those nights they spend tangled up in each other. sometimes otabek's bed, sometimes yuri's—sometimes a couch or, that one time, the floor.  
  
"i want out," he'd said, that first time. "i don't want to live by someone else's rules."  
  
he talks about how viktor got out, and otabek will pretend he can't tell how much yuri misses him.  
  
one time, as the sun rises, yuri admits: "he offered to take me with him, but i—i wasn't ready, then."  
  
otabek still isn't sure if that admission was colored by guilt, or by regret.  
  
anyone that watches yuri plisetsky for any amount of time that he does not like to live with regrets, and that remorse does not suit him.

———

yuri is in the most corner of corner booths when otabek finds him.  
  
"do you have a death wish?" he asks. perhaps he should just be grateful yuri's finally put his hood up.  
  
yuri smiles. "i'm sure most people would tell you that i do," he says. "and that probably includes my beloved overlord, now."  
  
the gears in otabek's head turn and grind, and realization crashes over him like a wave as he remembers their past conversations, all the times that yuri talked about walking away—more than that, striking the match on the boss' operation and walking away to let the flames burn behind him.  
  
"yura," he says, "what did you do?"  
  
yuri takes a healthy sip of his drink. "i know the 'big dumb brute' act is useful for you in this line of work, but you have to remember i know better."  
  
otabek grits his teeth. "if you're deliberately provoking him, he's not going to stand for it."  
  
"it's a good thing i'm not sticking around, then," yuri replies. he looks up, meets otabek's disbelieving anger with implacable conviction. "you know what i have in mind, beka. are you in or not?"  
  
it's clear in every word, in every line of his body—yuri plisetsky will not be dissuaded from this. not now, not in a few hours, not in two days.  
  
otabek sighs and takes a seat, signaling one of the waitresses for a drink. "start talking, yuri."


End file.
